


Losing Hope

by Luna_May



Series: The Hope Series [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: #Dean, #Hope is here, #Hunting, #Stab wounds, #Two POVS, #sammy, #supernatural - Freeform, Supposed to be the second part I just forgot like an idiot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-24
Updated: 2016-10-24
Packaged: 2018-08-24 12:30:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8372323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luna_May/pseuds/Luna_May
Summary: I woke up on the table, typical.I groaned, sitting up. I looked at my arms and legs, bruises and scratches. My head throbbed and my right wrist was sending out electrical jolts of pain.I slid off the table and wandered over to the library. I expected to see Sam or Castiel, but found an eerily familiar sigil made of blood. I recognized it as an angel banishing symbol. I quickly stepped out of the room, and ran for Dean’s bedroom.I reached his door, and opened it, seeing Dean deep asleep. His walls were lined with weapons and I took the first one I saw, a silver switchblade laying on a dresser.I turned around and felt a hand grip my shoulder I looked up to see a bulky man with a thick head of jet black hair, his eye flicked black.“DEAN!” I yelled, hearing him start awake and yell a curse.





	1. This is supposed to be the second part of the series in just an idiot

I woke up on the table, typical.  
I groaned, sitting up. I looked at my arms and legs, bruises and scratches. My head throbbed and my right wrist was sending out electrical jolts of pain.  
I slid off the table and wandered over to the library. I expected to see Sam or Castiel, but found an eerily familiar sigil made of blood. I recognized it as an angel banishing symbol. I quickly stepped out of the room, and ran for Dean’s bedroom.  
I reached his door, and opened it, seeing Dean deep asleep. His walls were lined with weapons and I took the first one I saw, a silver switchblade laying on a dresser.  
I turned around and felt a hand grip my shoulder I looked up to see a bulky man with a thick head of jet black hair, his eye flicked black.  
“DEAN!” I yelled, hearing him start awake and yell a curse.  
“Hope!” he exclaimed, before I was transported somewhere dark and cold.

I blinked and when I opened my eyes I was in a warehouse somewhere. It was slightly cold and I saw a vent blowing the chilly breeze into the room. The floor was stone, and rough. Behind me was a chair and in front of me was another. I coughed, looking up I saw three men towering over me, well two of them were, the man in the middle was. Stocky. To put it plainly. His hair was thinning a bit, put was dressed very nicely and looked like he was business man. Typical.  
he was familiar, but I couldn’t quite place him.  
The pompadour man who first grabbed me stalked forward, and shoved me down into a chair that was behind me.  
“Oof, he-hey can we just talk before I get killed?” I stammered, putting up one hand while the other hurt too move.  
“Oh. I like that. Smart move, girl. Let’s talk.” The middle man spoke, stepping forward. “Crowley, King of Hell.” He held out a hand and I took it hesitantly.  
“Hope, Nephilim of Earth.” I joked, giving a nervous laugh.  
Crowley smirked bemused by me, I guess.  
“Well, Hope. I need you, just for a little bit.” Crowley, crouched to my level, as I was forced to sit by the large hand pushing my shoulder down.  
“The- the king of Hell, needs me? f- for what?” I asked, becoming increasingly nervous.  
“Information, about what you know. And for now, I owe Sam and Dean Winchesters and if I can return you, then we’ll be even and I can go about my merry way without those two mouth-breathing down my neck.” Crowley slowly through his monologue spoke more and more angry, apparently the brothers and the king of Hell did have history and it was not good.  
“Sorry, I don’t have any information.” I said, entirely expecting some torture from this somewhat British man.  
“Oh, really?” Crowley pushed, leaning forward.  
“Yeah, I – I don’t have any information on those Sam and Dean characters.” I lied. I was hoping to be able to get out of this and fly back home.  
“Really, cause, I happen to know you’re lying. After all you were found in their bunker.” Crowley said, standing up and walking gingerly around the chair.  
“Um, I don’t know how I got there! I just woke up in there.” I exclaimed. “Honestly, I don’t remember, maybe I got hit by something.”  
“Right.” Crowley rolled his eyes. “Well, I didn’t want to have to do this but maybe my friends can help, jog your memory.” He leaned down and his eyes clouded into a blood red color before snapping out of the room.  
“Oh crap.” I muttered, seeing the looming figure standing over me.  
I weighed my options; I could get pummeled to death or I could teleport and be unconscious but alive. I decided to teleport, who knows where I would end up though, I just pictured an open field and hoped for the best before feeling my being expand in an instant and reconnect somewhere else.  
Then darkness. Typical.  
I opened my eyes in a large field, there were small rabbits one of which was sniffing me and patted my face, waking me up.  
“Mmh.” I groaned, sitting up I saw the rabbit stare at me curiously.  
I let out a hand for it to sniff which it did and as I got up and started walking in a random direction it followed me hopping along, I smirked at it.  
After a few hours of walking I sat down and the rabbit who had stuck close by sat too. I took a close look at him and saw that he was white and tan with one eye having a perfect circle of tan contrast his white fur. And two little brown button eyes adorned its little face.  
“What am I gonna call you?” I pondered. “What about . . . Cinnamon?”  
The little bunny hopped forward a little.  
“Cinnamon it is.” I smiled, and gently rubbed the rabbits head.  
After more walking it was dark and we came across a little town. Cinnamon and I laid down in the grass and I fell asleep with a little rabbit on my chest.


	2. Waking up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hey, little girl?” I woke up to a deep male voice.  
> “Huh?” I opened my eyes to see a man with light brown hair, scruff and blue eyes looking down at me, he was wearing a green polo with jeans, and behind him was a woman with long dark brown hair, and hazel eyes wearing a knee-length sundress.  
> “Um, hi.” I scrambled back from the small family, letting out a small grunt as I put weight on my right wrist, the electrical jolting hadn’t let up, but hadn’t been my biggest worry so I only realized it now.

“Hey, little girl?” I woke up to a deep male voice.  
“Huh?” I opened my eyes to see a man with light brown hair, scruff and blue eyes looking down at me, he was wearing a green polo with jeans, and behind him was a woman with long dark brown hair, and hazel eyes wearing a knee-length sundress.  
“Um, hi.” I scrambled back from the small family, letting out a small grunt as I put weight on my right wrist, the electrical jolting hadn’t let up, but hadn’t been my biggest worry so I only realized it now.  
“Hey, are you okay?” the man asked. “What’s your name?”   
“Um, I—I’m Hope. And I think I broke my wrist.” I answered, standing up.  
“Can, we um.” the man looked to the woman. “Take you to the doctor?”   
“Oh, please that – that’s not necessary.” I assured, them, picking up the rabbit in my good hand.  
“Please we insist. You look pretty beat up. Don’t want you getting an infection, do we?” the woman persisted.  
“Um, no? “I ventured.  
“Well, c’mon how’d you get that way?” The man asked me.  
“Long story, let’s just say that there’s two people I can trust one hundred percent.” I answered as vaguely as I could, but still have a satisfying answer.   
“Well, I hope those two people are looking for you.” The woman said, leading me towards the town.  
“What are your names?” I asked.  
“I’m Hayden. This is my wife, Kelly.” The man replied.  
I nodded, watching the little rabbit follow. We ended up in the little town, with small shops and neat little rows of houses. Very Pleasantville.   
“This is a nice town.” I commented, furrowing my eyebrows I looked at the suspiciously happy people.   
“Oh, yes, it is. We have the most wonderful diner here! When was the last time you’ve eaten?” Kelly exclaimed.   
“Um,” I thought for a moment. “Two, three days?”   
Kelly and Hayden looked at me, taken aback. “Three days? Who’s raising you!?” Hayden demanded.  
“Um, well my parents are great, it’s just we were in trouble and time, well it hasn’t been a very good few days and I got away, but p-please don’t tell the police my parents are great and probably very worried.” I said, hurriedly.  
“You’re a strange kid.” Hayden commented, glancing at the bunny that had been following me for a day now.  
“Do you have any rabbit food? For the rabbit.” I asked, changing the subject.  
“At the pet store yes.” Kelly informed me.  
After a while more of walking we ended up at a doctor’s office.   
“Here we are.” Hayden announced, opening the door for me.  
“I can’t pay though.” I admitted.  
“That’s fine we can handle it, you need the help.” Kelly assured me.  
I blushed, being with Sam and Dean made you have a type of instinct, to take care of yourself and be strong. “Thanks.”   
I entered the room, getting immediate stares, a strange girl who looked like she was mugged by five bodybuilders just walked into a small town with two people they knew, it looked strange to say the least.   
Almost instantly a doctor came out and looked me over before ushering me into a room alone.  
“So, what’s your name?” the doctor asked.  
“Hope.” I muttered.  
“Well, Hope. I’m Doctor Wells, and I’m here to fix you.” The doctor said.  
“Um I just need a cast if that’s alright.” I said, I had a bad feeling about this place.   
“Oh, yes.” Dr. Well’s smirked.  
It was an awkward hour when my purple cast was set and attached to my wrist, running up my arm it limited my right handed movement severely.   
“Now, how about I fix you up?” the doctor said, revealing a bone saw.  
My eyes widened. “No. I’m leaving.” I said, standing up only to be blown back by some force.   
“I’m going to fix you.” The doctor repeated.  
I started feeling around my pockets for anything that could help and I felt something sharp prick my fingers. Gripping it I pulled out the switch blade, my hand was now bleeding but I had a weapon. I slashed the doctor’s cheek, when he was close enough, and the wound oozed a green slime.  
“What are you?” I whispered.  
“I’m a nightmare!” the creature yelled, the bone saw began whir menacingly.  
“Lo-look, you don’t want to do this.” I said, turning my head as the man neared me.   
“Oh, no? I believe I do!” the creature snarled, letting the saw graze my skin.   
I gritted my teeth, grunting as it slowly traced m arm. I looked around the room for anything blunt I could reach. I saw the table, a file cabinet, and an umbrellas stand with a single umbrella in it. Since it was the only thing I could quickly grab I lunged for the umbrella, snatching it I turned and held it up defending me.  
The man’s eyes stared coldly, at me, devoid of emotion.  
It stalked forward, and on instinct I plunged the tip of the umbrella into the monster’s chest, it cried out and exploded into a cloud, leaving no sign that it had been there besides the mess and my arm. I looked down and saw that the cast was gone.  
“Hallucinations?” I mused, quietly.  
I looked around and thought.   
If I stay I’ll be found housed and fed. But also be questioned and my parents will be in danger . . . again. But if I maybe steal something, pawn it and find a motel I can sleep in and buy, I don’t know, fast food. I’ll be like Dean. I smiled at the thought of being like the tough hunter. And I can burn that thing, ghost?   
I peered at a window and a pad of post-it-notes and a pen. I took it, wrote a quick thank you to Kelly and Hayden. Before I opened the window and hopped out, ignoring the pain in my wrist.  
I walked around the ally’s searching the ground for anything of value, pennies, quarter’s, even a couple dollars all came into my possession, totaling in a whopping 21 dollars and 86 cents.   
I was ready to give up when I saw a slight glint on the street, where I was walking. I looked down and saw a silver necklace with a pristine opal hanging off the end, carved into a heart-shape.   
“Whoa.” I breathed, picking up the necklace.   
I peered around the corner, seeing a small shop I walked swiftly down and read the sign.  
“Yesteryear’s Pawn.” I read aloud.  
I entered the shop, it smelled of leather, whisky, dust, and perfume.   
“Hello, little lady! What can I do for ya?” the shop keep asked, he narrowed his eyes as he looked at me, probably wondering who abused me.  
“Yes, um, what can I get for this?” I asked, placing the necklace on the counter.  
“Ooh, near mint condition, slight marking on the opal but otherwise great. Hmm, I’ll give you five hundred for it.” He said, reaching into the cash register.  
“What about six hundred?” I haggled.  
“Five.”   
“Five-fifty.”   
“Deal.”   
I collected my money and was on my way, what a payday!  
I walked to a motel called The Queen’s Inn, and entered seeing a woman manning the counter I went up to her, and attempted to order a room.  
“Um, hi. I would like to order a room.” I said, putting cash on the counter.  
“really?” the woman scoffed. “Alright.” She took the money and handed me a key. “Room, a-12.”  
“Thanks.” I replied flatly, taking the key.  
I walked down the halls, and found Room A-12. I put the key in the lock, turned and entered the room. It smelled like cigarette buds, and sadness. There was a single bed with mysterious stains all along the comforter and sheets. I stripped the bed down and laid across mattress, closing my eyes I immediately fell asleep, pain ebbing into my dream as colors of red and black.   
I blinked awake, hearing police sirens. I opened my window and saw police surrounding someone’s home.   
“The ghost?” I asked no one in particular.  
I walked downstairs, money in my hoodies pocket, I saw a kid a bit younger than me sitting on his steps crying, police awkwardly avoiding him. A small person’s shape laid under a white sheet, and two parents were shaken on an ambulance. I snuck over to the kid on the steps and sat down next to him.   
“What happened?” I asked.  
He sniffed. “I don’t know, one minute I was sleeping the next Garret was – was screaming about a man or a doctor or something and then when I got there, mom and dad were crying on the phone, and – and.” The boy gestured to the ambulance.  
“Oh, God. I’m so sorry, my names Hope. If I can do anything, anything at all. Visit me, I’m staying at the Queens Inn, room A-12.” I informed him.   
“Thanks.” He muttered.  
I put my hand on his shoulder. And he flinched before wrapping me in a hug.  
I sat stunned for a moment, before embracing the boy. My eyes widened when I felt him touch my wings. He leaned back, and looked at me, confused and surprised.  
In my panic I just put my finger to my lips and shushed him. He nodded stultified as I slowly walked away.   
I walked through the ally’s avoiding busy streets and wandering aimlessly, pondering the ghost problem.  
“So, the ghost dresses as a doctor, attacks kids, and can go anywhere.” I thought aloud. “Ugh! I’m not a hunter! I’m freaking twelve!” I groaned, slumping on a wall I slid down and put my face in my hands.  
“Hmm, okay. What have Sam and Dean told me about what to do?” I wondered, “Um, a phone number? Not theirs, but someone else’s in case, someone not famous like them. Who was it? Start’s with a G?” I thought hard, the name so close on the tip of my tongue. “Gary? Garth? Garth!” I shot up something in me clicking I reached into my hoodie pocket and felt some of the coins I had scrounged up.  
“Okay, phone booth.” I began to search the sidewalks for a phone booth, uncommon now but it felt like something this town would have. I was right.  
I entered the glass booth and pondered, what was the number? 919-435-4444? Sure why not?  
I slid in two quarters and typed the number into the phone and listened to it ring.  
Ring!  
Ring!  
Ring!  
Click.  
“Hello?” came a male slightly less-than-masculine voice from the phone.  
“Hi? Um I’m looking for Garth.” I answered.   
“This is Garth. Who are you?” he asked.  
“I’m Hope. I was wondering how you kill a ghost.”   
“Salt and burn the corpse. Wait, you sound young, how old are you?” Garth inquired.  
I bit my lip. “Twelve, thanks Garth!” I heard a slight cry of protest when I hung up the phone.   
I thought Dean said he was someone who grew on you, sounded like a teenager himself too, maybe he grew up. Maturity wise.  
I exited the booth and continued on my way. I ended up at the library going on an old desktop I started to research, channeling my inner Sam I decided to look up obituaries, unfortunately I had no idea where I was, the names of the shops and inns weren’t helpful. I looked around and saw a teenager standing nearby she was combing through the library’s science fiction section, reading the back of a blue book, she was unaware of my approach.  
“Hi?” I said, quietly.  
She jumped a little. “Yes?”  
“Um, yeah . . . do you know what this town’s name is?” I asked, smiling weakly.  
“Littleton.” She answered, with a questioning gaze.  
“Thanks.” I said, giving a pitiful laugh.   
Typical. I thought, going back to the computer.  
I typed in Littleton’s Obituaries, 1899-2016, multiple deaths on each date, this is going to be a long day.   
Eric Simons dead old age, Rene Simpson dead from cancer, Finley Stanford dead from, electrocution.   
Old age.  
Disease.  
Old age.  
Old age.  
Old age.  
Cancer.  
Blah, blah, blah. My eyes scanned page after page after page. Boredom eating me away. I finally landed on a fairly recent page;  
Beloved Doctor sentenced to death.  
1974-2015   
Emit Smith a long time doctor of Littleton is exposed drugging his patients and killing them, hacking their bodies with his bone saw and claiming a closed casket burial would be suitable for the comfort of the family. He would go on to do this to over twenty other innocents all children. On death row he committed suicide.   
Buried on plot 106.  
“Well, bone saw, dead, and murderer. Sounds like my guy.” I muttered, smiling.  
I suddenly felt the electrical jolt of pain soar into unknown territory as someone gripped my wrist roughly. I let out a yelp of pain and saw a librarian looking down sternly at me.  
“Could -,” I winced. “Please, let go of my wrist.” My voice cracked in pain.   
She shoved my wrist away before demanding; “Get out.”   
I took a glance at the screen, Plot 106. I hurried out away from the woman and out of the room.


	3. Chapter 3

I sat in my motel room, legs folded on the bed, thinking.  
How am I going to get salt and gasoline? And a shovel? I can just use my hands, or grace.  
I huffed, flopping onto my back, staring at the bumpy ceiling, pieces of the plaster cracked and even missing.   
“Boring tan color, boring old cracks, boring room, not-so boring life.” I mused, blue eyes tracing the cracks.   
Knock! Knock! Knock!  
I sat upright, looking at the door. A muffled voice, “Hope?”  
“Boy?” I spoke quietly, getting up.  
On my tip-toes I looked through the peephole, seeing the same boy, same musky brown hair, same pale sad skin, same dark brown eyes.   
I opened the door. “Boy?”   
“Hope!” he rushed in and closed the door, locking it. He then ran to close my blinds.   
“You’re not gonna, do anything are you?” I asked, a nervous smile gracing my face.  
“No, but I want to know what you are!” he exclaimed, excitement and worry dancing in his eyes.   
“Really? I don’t think that’s a good idea.” I sat back down on the bed, and he walked over and sat down on the floor in front of me.  
“I do!”   
“Listen, the world isn’t nice, what makes half of me, they are warriors, not nice. And listen, it’s all real. Except for the racist, sexist and homophobic stuff, God doesn’t care. Trust me, I have . . . connections.” I said, taking off my hoodie. My wings were still folded on my back, unable for him to see.  
“Really!?” his eyes widened in amazement.  
I unfurled my wings, the light purple color of lilac flowers, large taking up almost the entire space, “Really.”  
“Oh my God.” He gasped, reaching out, mesmerized.  
I smirked, flexing my wings and turning it forward for the boy to feel. As he brushed my feathers with his fingers it tickled slightly, I flinched at the unexpected feeling.   
He pulled back, a fearful expression plastered on his face.  
“It’s okay!” I assured him.  
He nodded, standing up, watching as I folded my wings and dawned my hoodie again.   
“So what are you?” he asked.  
“Well, I’m a Nephilim. A half-angel.” I said.   
“I’m Allan, a human, homo-sapiens. Why are you in such a dump?” he asked. “Sorry, if you like it.”   
“I freakin’ hate it.” I grinned at the boy.  
“Why’s you call me “Boy”, anyway?” Allen asked.  
“It just slipped, I called my bother that just, like a nickname as he was my only brother.” I explained.   
“If you have family, why are you here? Alone?” The boy looked at me, questioningly.   
“I just, um. It’s a long, long story.” I rubbed the back of my neck, looking sheepishly at him.  
“Oh? Oh!” he gasped. “I’m so, so sorry!” he said reaching forward.  
“no, no! they’re not dead, just I want to keep them safe. I’m not . . .” I trailed off, “Okay, let’s not talk about it.”   
Allen nodded, eyes wide. “So what are you doing here?”   
“I’m . . . on a hunt.” I answered.  
“Like, deer?”   
“No, I’m hunting that ghost, now do you have any gasoline and salt?” I asked.  
“You’re crazy.” He muttered.   
“Really, what if I do this.” I closed my eyes took a shaky breath and teleported behind the boy.  
I wavered, gasping, gripping the window sill with my bad hand, I cried out in pain and fell to the ground, seizing the world faltered blackness creeping into my vision. I feebly reached up and saw a glimpse of Allen’s panicked face. I felt something wrong, some presence, evil. No, angels. That can’t happen, they- they couldn’t know!  
“Allen!” I choked out, fighting the darkness that was coaxing my mind into an unconscious state. “R-run!”   
He stood up and turned to the door, before crying out. “HOPE!”  
I fought off the blackness that almost won, I stood up, anger causing me to renew my grace, how dare they come back? How dare they even be frightening to young children, how dare they try and kill me! I had done nothing! I was innocent until they forced my hand!  
I turned to the man, my eyes glowing a pale gray, “Exit the room, before you cannot.”   
He laughed, the silver glint of an angel blade visible from his shirt sleeve. Allen had retreated to the bed, cowering in horrified curiosity at the scene about to take place.   
The man rushed me, swinging the blade, I felt it cut deep into my side, thankfully missing vital organs which would have resulted in an instantaneous death.  
Pulling away and swinging again, this time at my neck. My hand flashed upward, gripping the blade centimeters from my throat, my hand flashing a bright blue light as it cut into it.   
Allen gasped in horror, I turned attention wavering enough for me to be blown back by the force of a true angel.  
“Hope!” the boy yelled, shrinking down further.  
I struggled to get up, trying to reassure Allen, though my eye’s reaction to the burst of power was, to say the least, off-putting.   
“I’ll deal with you later.” The angel hissed to Allen. “Now, it’s time for me to put an end to your horrible, abominable existence. And revenge for our fallen brethren, dead at your hands.” He growled, walking forward, raising the knife high above his head.  
I stood up, wobbling on my legs. I stared hard at the man, I unfurled my wings, and raised myself to his height, just as he thrusted the knife, instead of into my head, into my thigh, pain searing through my body, I wavered, but raised my hand, and touched my palm to his forehead. He cried out in pain as my grace ravaged his body, burning his eyes completely into nothing but ash, his dead corpse fell to the ground.   
I found myself now on the ground. Wings going lax had caused me to fall. I felt the pain burning through my, my only awareness was the fire burning under my skin, near my wrist and thigh, blood pooling, please let no arties be struck. Ugh! This was bound to happen. I’ll never be free until all angels are dead or I am.   
“Hope?” Allen called.  
I grunted, large black spots taking control of my vision. I let the darkness grip me tight and let me rest.  
~~~Supernatural~~~  
I watched as Hope was kidnapped, I was sleeping when she woke up on that table, when Castiel was sent back. Damn, memory foam.   
“Sam!” I yelled, flinging myself out of bed and out of the room.  
“Dean?!?” Sam called back. “What? Are you okay?”   
“Hopes gone!” I said, quickly.   
Sam nodded before rushing to his room to change into proper clothes, as I did the same thing.   
We both met up in the impala, I was in the driver’s seat, sending a small prayer to Cas, saying that Hope was gone. After no response he started the car, listening to it purr and they set off on their search for the twelve-year-old half-angel.   
~~~Supernatural~~~  
I was drowning, alone. No one to save me.  
“Dean!” I cried out, but all that occurred was water seeping into my lungs.  
“Sam!” I tried but to no avail.  
“CASTIEL!” I screamed, sitting bolt upright on the bed where I was placed, much to the protest of my stab wounds.  
“Ah! God!” I groaned, my hands flying to my leg, rubbing the area around where the blood was staining the sheets and pooling.  
“Hope?” Allen reached out to ne, putting his hand on my shoulder.  
“Don’t touch me!” I snapped, smacking his hand from me.  
He recoiled, looking hurt and terrified.  
“Ugh, sorry,” I said not feeling sorry at all.  
I turned and got off the bed, blood falling more quickly now. The world was spinning as I stumbled to the bathroom, washing my leg off and taking an old gray towel to try and stop the bleeding. I knew I needed stiches if I was to live, and I couldnt go to the doctors they would find out about me, about everything, sure faith in God would be an obvious thing but, it would be chaos.   
I found myself now falling onto the toilet’s closed seat, the walls stretching around me, I just fought an angel, and escaped the king of Hell, I would not die from blood loss, I would not die because I would be tortured for all eternity by angels or demons depending on where I was headed at the moment.  
I looked around the room, I saw floss and I had whatever I could get from the rest of the room. I needed something sterile and sharp. Not gonna be easy. Typical.  
I opened the curtains to the shower, could I break something and use it as a needle.   
“Mmh. Um. Wooden luffa thing, sure.” I grabbed the luffa and bended the stick, trying so hard but every second I was growing more and more weak. I gave up on brute force and smacked it multiple times on the tile counter, finally breaking it in half, now I could break off a bit of the wooden spikes poking from the half still in my hand and not on the floor.  
I did so and used my finger nails to dig divots so the floss would stay on the makeshift needle. I then bit my lip and began to sew my skin back together. I cried out in pain more than once, and the patchwork was sloppy and weak. I found the room still spinning, everything fogging up, I had done my best, and still I was going to die, I was going to die in a crappy motel room bathroom, from an angel who was now as far as she knew laying down, dead. Maybe that Allen kid would be smart and throw him out the window when she died.  
“I shouldn’t stop, Dean . . . Sam . . . Cas . . . looking, ‘fer me.” I said slipping off into oblivion.


	4. Chapter 4

I was sitting on the motel bed, thinking over any information we had as to where Hope could be, when Crowley popping in.   
“Hello, Boys. And pet.” Crowley announced, looking at the shocked men.  
“What do you want, Crowley?” I demanded, standing up. I took a quick glance at Castiel who had a look of pure annoyance, not anger or shock, just looking annoyed that Crowley was still breathing. (Do demon’s need to breathe?)  
“Oh, I was just wondering if the little girl who was sleeping on your table was with you, after so rudely leaving what I had set up for her I had assumed she came here to follow you around, once more.” Crowley explained as if it made the situation better and easier for him.   
“You what!?” Castiel exclaimed, marching forward to confront the short demon.  
“Ah, careful there, love. Wouldn’t want blood all over the suit, just had it dry-cleaned.” Crowley smirked at the angel.  
“What did you do to her?”   
“Nothing, well only because she disappeared from the room, very rude if I do say so. We had sigils painted but she escaped them, I’d guess it was her human nature.” Crowley mused, sliding away from the enraged angel.  
“Crowley, get out and leave her alone.” Sam ordered.  
“Ah, Moose, quick to judge. I only wanted to get information, my colleagues who were accompanying me at the time wanted to have a fight. She refused to give information and my goons decided to attack her. I would like to find her too.”   
I groaned, “Look just leave the girl alone,”  
Crowley rolled his eyes before snapping out of the room.  
“Hate him.” I scowled at the spot where he once stood.  
“Dean.” Castiel spoke up, looking me in the eyes.  
“Yeah, Cas?” I responded.  
“I believe that Hope may have sent tan unintentional prayer for us, it was too brief to pinpoint an exact location but I can conclude the state it was sent from, the coast at the very least.” Castiel said, glint of possible hope in his eyes.  
“What state is she in?” Sam asked, walking forward, closer to the angel.  
“We are in Kansas and if I’m correct she is in Oregon.” Castiel had a thoughtful expression on his face, peering at the ceiling.  
“Great! Let’s go!” Sam exclaimed, happily.  
“I believe you’re right, as she sounded panicked and in intense pain.” Castiel sounded nonchalant but there was a betraying worry in his eyes.  
I grabbed my keys and bag and we all rushed out of the motel room.  
~~~Supernatural~~~  
I was drowning again but there was a faint blink of light above me, I tried to swim up but a voice in my head said to not. I protested, the light warm compared to the cold depths and lukewarm middle I was now I greatly preferred the warmth, it was so inviting though the currents kept dragging me down and down, nearly at the depths I heard a voice hiss; “Welcome.”  
“Noo!” I screeched, eyes blinking open.  
“Cas, I need you.” I whispered, giving in and quietly sobbing into my abused hands. “Please, I can’t do this alone.”  
“Hope? Are you okay?” Allen’s voice though muffled by the door was dripping with worry.  
“Ye-yeah.” I replied, wiping my tears away, standing up I limped over to the door and opened it.  
“Oh, goodness did you sew your leg back together?” he asked, looking frightfully at my bloodied leg.   
“Yeah.” I said. “Okay, you have salt and gasoline?”   
“Yeah? Why?” he asked.  
“Because we’re burning a body.” I answered.  
I looked at the room, hm. Well I should probably dump the body. The angel’s deceased form was laying there, wing marks burned into the wood.   
I walked over to the body and began to hoist the dead man up by the armpits and dragged it over the window.  
“Little help?” I requested, nodding at the window. “My wings don’t have fingers.”  
“Y-you’re faking the suicide of a man who tried to kill you and you m-murdered?!” he stammered, eyes wide.  
“Yes, please follow.” I said, I was getting short-tempered with the boy. I was kind before but after the horrible dream I wasn’t feeling it.  
“O-okay.” He opened the window and grabbed the man’s legs as we threw the man out the window.  
“Okay let’s run!” I yelled, running from the room, leaving a five-dollar bill as an I’m sorry.  
“Ahh!” Allen cried for a moment before I left the room and he followed a moment after.  
We ran out the back of the building as people crowded the body.  
“Who are you!” Allen yelled at me.  
“I’m Hope, thought you knew that!” I replied, sarcastically.  
We ducked behind an alleyway and sat down on the dirt to catch our breath and alleviate the pain in my leg.   
“Who. The. Heck. Are. You!?” Allen gasped.  
“A Nephilim, I am considered an abomination in Heaven and an asset for Hell to barter with, in any case, when I die I’m gonna have a heck of a time from being sold to torture to probably being stolen and sold back for more torture. So and so forth. So yeah, angels are always trying to kill me, I got to keep my head low and try to live comfortably, always on high alert.” I rambled on. “I have friends who help but I don’t want them to, but no! I’m just a kid! I can’t protect myself, I can’t do anything! I might be too short to reach the top shelf, I might be too short to do a lot of things Sam, Dean, and Castiel can! But I have the same drive! My family. I want to go home. I want a normal life . . . I want this to end.” I trailed off.  
Allen rubbed the back of his neck. “Who are Sam, Dean and Castiel?”  
“The people who saved me and my family. The people who are probably looking for me right now, who are going to kick my butt for getting myself into this hunt.” I smiled at the prospect of Dean and Sam yelling at me.  
“Hunt?”  
“I’m hunting a ghost and I need to salt and burn the corpse, curtesy of Garth.” I answered. “Let’s get to your house, shall we?”   
“Um, sure.” Allen said, suddenly quiet. He walked in front of me, questions gone.  
“Did I dump a lot of my problems on you? Sorry if I did.” I said to him, walking behind.  
“No it’s just, you’re weird and I don’t like this situation, like you just killed someone and sewed your leg back up! You were freakin’ stabbed! How do you deal with this!?”   
“I um, I don’t know. Guess I just don’t think about it. The passing out helps, I guess.” I joked, giving him a smile.  
He did something of a sigh and a laugh.  
I did the same.  
~~~Supernatural~~~  
We ended up in Oregon, and searched town after town and began to search farm houses.  
“Dean?” Castiel said, while we were in Baby.  
“Cas? Any information?” I asked, turning ot look at the backseat where the angel sat.  
“Her latest prayer gives me a location but it is also quite upsetting.” Castiel furrowed his eyebrows in worry.  
“What did she say?” I inquired.   
“She said; “Cas, I need you. I can’t do this alone.”” Castiel answered.  
“Do what alone?” Sam murmured.  
“Maybe she’s hunting.” I muttered, eyes going back to the road. “Where is she?”  
“In a town called, Littleton.” Castiel said.  
I snorted. “Wow.”  
~~~Supernatural~~~  
“Gas is in the garage.” Allen informed me.  
“Thanks, can you get the salt?” I asked him.  
“Yeah, how much you need?”   
“Do you have one of those sea salt canisters? If so get that then we can go to the cemetery tonight.” I replied.  
“T-tonight?” Allen stammered.  
“Tonight. Don’t want anyone else getting hurt, now do we?” I smirked at him.  
He looked crestfallen. “No. no, we don’t.”  
“Hey.” I put my good arm around his shoulders. “Your brother is in a better place now.”  
“Yeah, I guess you’d know, right?” he looked at me, sniffing away his tears.  
“Yeah, I’d know.” I lied to him, but didn’t everyone lie to us? We’re “Just kids” after all.  
He smiled at me, before rushing inside his house.  
I began to explore his garage, typical garage stuff, car, workshop, table of crafting supplies, and miscellaneous beach toys in a bag. Along with other more interesting things such as a freezer filled with ice cream and . . . beer? And a bookcase with “Adult Novels” packed to the brim.  
I frowned, not finding my prize. I saw cans of oil, and cleaner, aside cans of dried paint.  
Aha! I found it!  
Seeing the glorious plastic can of gasoline. It was high up on the shelf and I couldn’t reach it without flying. I thought anyone could walk past and see me, so I found a stool discarded near the workshop, grabbed it and climbed up.   
I grabbed the gasoline and met Allen in the house.   
“Hey, Hope! I got the salt! And I feel like we’re missing something.”   
“Matches?” I offered.  
“Matches!”   
~~~Later at night~~~  
“Allen, it’s time to go.” I said, ready sneaking out of the house. It was night and no moon was visible through the cloudy sky. And I almost could swear I saw an impala drive by Allen’s house.  
“Um, okay.” He agreed, nervously.   
I grabbed the matches and salt, while the boy grabbed the gasoline.  
“Out the back?” I turned the Allen who was looking scared.  
“Here, give me the gas. I’ll go, just stay safe, okay?” I smiled at him.  
“Oh, thank God. I did not want to go desecrate a grave.” He gave me a thankful look and handed me the gas.  
I began to walk away when I remembered an important step.  
“Oh! Wait, I need to do something.” I turned back and shook out a salt circle around Allen.  
“Um, what’s this?” he asked.  
“A salt circle, it keeps the ghosts out.” I explained, finishing the warding, and exiting out the back. “Wish me luck!”   
I decided since all I had to do was carry some stuff, I flew over to the cemetery.   
“Okay, plot, 10- something or other his name was like, Emit something, right? Right . . .” I said, walking through the graveyard.   
I found a grave labeled, Emit Smith. Docor, Husband and father. +  
“Hello, Emit. Wait, crap. How am I gonna burn you, I can’t just zap away the dirt. Can I?” I mused.  
Eh, worth a shot.  
I looked at the ground and focused, picturing it moving away and piling up on the ground beside the grave.  
A layer of dirt complied, a good foot took a lot out of me, I sat down gasping, holy crap I just mojoed dirt. But my dear doctor was still five feet under.  
It took hours but the dirt was gone and I was still somewhat standing.   
“Okay, sir. You’re causing a lot of trouble, and-,” Yawn. “I need to end you.”   
I started to pour the salt on the graying bones.   
“Good lord man, you smell awful! I mean, I was already going to have nightmares about your decaying body, but your smell will haunt me in the waking world. Take a shower.” I complained to the non-sentient corpse.  
I heard a whiring behind my head and jumped over the hole just in time for just a small haircut.   
“Holy-!” I started, turning back to see the ghost.  
“How do I fend, you off?” I wondered aloud.   
“I’m going to fix you.” The ghost hissed.  
“Um, um, um. Salt!” I yelled, throwing salt at the thing, it recoiled and flickered before reappearing beside me.  
“Ah!” I cried out.  
I ran to the other side of the grave where I left the gasoline and matches.  
I poured gasoline over the body, and felt myself being shoved forward.  
“Gah!” I gripped the grass on the side of the grave and held tight, trying to pull myself up.  
I slipped, the pain in my wrist excruciating.  
“Oh, dear lord! C’mon Castiel! Sort of about to possibly die here!” I exclaimed.  
I pulled myself out of the grave and threw a handful of salt on the creature. It screeched and flickered over to me again.  
I bolted to the other side and picked up the match box, lighting a match and lifted it up.  
I felt the spirit grip my shoulder with one hand and use the other to turn on his saw, I threw down the match just in time to see an impala show up and the creature to cry out in excruciating pain. As it burst into a spectral flame and disappeared.  
“Hope!” I heard Dean yell as I flopped onto my back.   
I saw Sam, Dean and Castiel rush to my side, dropping to their knees to be level with me.  
“Hope, what happened to you?!” Sam asked, sitting me up.  
“Um, Crowley kidnapped me, I teleported away, met a rabbit I named Cinnamon, nearly got murdered by a ghost, I’ve been in pain for like three days. I got beat up by and angel before passing out from murdering him, and having a few nightmares, then faking his suicide and running off with my new friend, Allen. And killing the murdering Doctor ghost.” I answered, giving the brief version of my story.  
“Is that floss?” Castiel asked, peering at my leg.  
I looked down before answering; “Yes.”  
“Alright, girl. Let’s get you healed, okay?” Dean said, putting my arm around his shoulder, and crouching down so I didn’t hang in the air.  
“Here.” Castiel put two fingers to my forehead and I instantly felt better.  
“Thanks, Castiel. How’d you guys find me?” I asked.  
“You were praying to us.” Castiel answered.  
“Oh, I guess I did. Um can we go help a friend of mine? I need to let him know he can come out of his salt circle now.”


	5. The End.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm hoping this goes off without a hitch. ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's so short!

"So, you got stabbed by an angel then faked his suicide after using your mojo to kill him?” Dean repeated what I had told them.  
“Yep.”   
“Then you sewed up your wound after having your friend drag you onto a bed and watch you bleed?”  
“Yep.”  
“Okay and now you just killed the-,” Dean was cut off when the car was suddenly halted in its movement.  
“Ah! What was that?” I exclaimed.  
“Friggin’ angels.” I heard Dean mutter.  
I saw Sam, Dean and Castiel get out of the car and stand defiantly against the angel.  
Then suddenly not alone in the car I found myself with a knife to my throat.  
“Abomination.” Was whispered in my ear before I was forced out of the car.  
“Leave, this is not your fight, you may all still live.” The first angel said, gesturing to me.  
“Just go guys.” I said, sighing. This is getting old.  
“No, Hope, we won’t give up.” Castiel growled.  
I sighed, and resigned to my fate, fighting.  
I gripped the angel blade with my freshly healed hand spun out of the grip.  
It was a blur as Sam Dean and Castiel were quickly subdued, as I could only assume Cas was as tired as I was or losing his Mojo. And Sam and Dean were hit upside the head, while Dean managed to kill one, I had to fight the other as Cas was somewhat awake, Sam was unconscious and Dean was eerily still.   
“Abomination, stop and we’ll save the Winchester.” The angel announced, gaze hardened my millennia’s of fighting.  
“I’ll save them myself.” I growled.  
“Fine then.” The angel waved his hand and I heard a soft grunt and a wet plunge.  
I gasped turning I saw a second angel standing over Dean, a wet angel blade slick with blood in his grasp.  
“NO!” I cried out ripping my shirt as my wings ripped two holes in my hoodie as I raised myself up to smite this horrid angel who dared to hurt a Winchester.  
I pushed his head back with my palm as a blue light glowed from him, as I killed the man.  
I turned and felt my eyes glow a gray color as it did when I was using my powers.  
The angel smiled at me before disappearing, seemingly scared or being tricky.  
I fell to the ground, limp and weak, I crawled to Dean, limp and lifeless I tried to wake him up, but his heart was stabbed I was helpless I couldn’t heal people. unable to fix this I called out for who I knew could bring Dean back.  
“CROWLEY!” I yelled into the night air.  
I heard a whooshing noise.  
“Oh, I’ve been waiting for this. Yes, Crowley here.” The somewhat British man exclaimed.  
“I want you to bring him back.” I ordered.  
“Oh, a deal?” he walked forward.  
“Ag, um.” I thought quickly, gripping Deans hand. “Will it bring him back?”  
“Hope?” I turned and saw Sam semi regain consciousness.  
“It’s okay, Sam. It’s gonna be okay.” I gave him a sad smile, if I do this, I know what will happen. Hell. But if I don’t, Sam will be alone, Castiel will lose his human, I’m not that strongly tied to my own family. I would be missed sure, but I’m not part of some prophecy. My existence is a fluke, an accident.  
“Clock is ticking.” Crowley teased.  
“Yes, Crowley. Please just, bring him back!” I turned my attention to the king of Hell.  
“Alright. Now Hope I’m gonna give you a deal, I’ll take your soul right away, and heal the Winchesters and angel.” Crowley smirked at me, walking forward.  
I mulled it over for only a moment before answering. “Okay, Crowley. I’ll do it.”  
“Hope, Hope. No.” I heard Sam slur.  
“It’s okay, everyone’s gonna be okay.” I said, tears running down my face, Hell. I was going to Hell.  
I felt Crowley give me a light kiss on the cheek, then Dean felt warmer, and his wound was gone.  
“Dean!” I cried, hugging the man tightly.   
“Hope? What did you do?” Dean asked, fearing the answer.  
“You know? I’m glad you guys were my friends. It was a nice experience. Even if it ends like this.” I laughed weakly.  
“Hope, you’re such an idiot.” Dean scolded, gently.  
“What have you done, Hope?” I heard Castiel ask.  
“I saved you guys, I did. At least I saved, Dean.” I answered, looking up to see Castiel, Sam and Dean looking at me and glaring at Crowley.   
“Well, sweetie. I believe it’s time to go.” Crowley announced.  
I felt heavy, tired when I was suddenly in the dream, the drowning.   
I was being dragged down into the murky depths of the ocean. This time I didn’t fight it, I knew where I was headed, it was where I was meant to be. I felt the cold of the water warm up and up until I felt my skin blister, I couldn’t cry out in pain or else I would drown and burn.  
I then opened my eyes through the scorching pain, my hands and legs shackled spreading my legs and arms widely.  
I saw my tormenter.   
“Well, you’re young. What’re you in for?” the demon asked.  
“I saved the Winchesters.” I told him, I knew this was a mistake but heck, what do I have to lose?  
The demon glared through his meat suit.  
And sliced my belly open.  
I let out a horrible scream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm Sorry


End file.
